


How The World Fell Under Darkness

by wellPressedAttire



Category: Homestuck, RPGStuck
Genre: C4S11, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellPressedAttire/pseuds/wellPressedAttire
Summary: In a distant city, in a distant era, in a world not entirely unlike ours, one man has had enough.





	

First, they came for the artists.

Useless. Meaningless. Waste of effort, time, and money. If you weren't creating propaganda, there was no reason to keep you around.

So they cut the funding. Put out warnings. A creative mind finds ways to hurt others, they said. Self-expression is deviant and obscene, they argued. A perfect society lives in perfect unity, needs only the steady rhythm of the many millions of commuters marching out a dull, funereal heartbeat; and eventually even that would be replaced by the pulsing, clanging drumbeat of the many robots manufacturing the foundations of society.

And they banned self-expression, burning books and melting down records. Not a one spoke out, or argued against the decision. 

After all, how could they complain? They were finally living the dream. A perfect society. No one had to work and no one had to worry about providing for their families.

But not everybody was willing to live out their lives in silent complaceny. There were those who held onto their dreams. Who never let go, even as their souls were slowly crushed by the steely, oppressive, smog-infested skies.

This is a story of one such group of people.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

As his bandmates packed up the instruments, Olki stood in the middle of the concert stage - the last of its kind. Towelling off his sweat, he disassembled his guitar, placing each individual piece into a different compartment of his rucksack. With the guitar pick behind his ear, he dusted off his leather jacket - thrown unceremoniously off to the side mid-solo - and put it back on, getting ready to head back out into the night. He thanked the venue owner, waved goodbye to his bandmates with a single, gloved hand, and left.

The climb back up to the surface was a long one, but in the young guitarist's opinion, well worth it. It was the only way to guarantee their security, he thought,  ascending the long, spiralled staircase; despite leaping strides in technology, robots were still limited by their lack of mobility. Tracing his hand along the heavily-soundproofed walls, he bitterly remembered time when such heavy precautions were unnecessary, how concerts were played in the open air and people were free to revel in celebration of the many harmonies mankind had produced. But after The Man had come, seizing control with his many steel-plated electric soldiers, such pleasures had disappeared, leaving the life of many people as featureless and empty as the barren wastelands which now surrounded the cities.

As he reached the top, Olki pulled out a green, scarred motorcycle helmet out of his bag, placing it onto his head. Opening the door to  the surface world, he slipped out into an old, crumbling parking lot. Here lay the rotting remains of what was formerly one of the world's biggest slums; after the population had hit higher levels than ever thought possible, many too poor to afford better housing were forced to live out of their cars, building up car colonies that would migrate with the seasons. Of course, all of this changed when The Man came; when the world fell under darkness and there were no need for humans to work their boring, meandering lives anymore, and the homeless were made to disappear, one way or another.

He closed the door to the club, built into the side of an old insurance building, and climbed onto his motorcycle, revving up the engine. And as he rode through the night, he dreamed.

Dreamed of a better world.  
And an idea began to form.


End file.
